


Hunting Those Who Hunt Us

by AlexTheShipper



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Dark Stiles Stilinski, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Gen, Gun Violence, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kate Argent Dies, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Murder, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTheShipper/pseuds/AlexTheShipper
Summary: The Argent's claim to live by a code, Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.Stiles' think's it's about time someone adopted that code, and applied it to them.
Comments: 68
Kudos: 1120





	1. Chapter 1

“What’s your code?” Stiles asks, seemingly uncaring of the way Chris’ eyes roam the room for a weapon. Chris doesn’t answer, and Stiles snaps his fingers impatiently. “The argent code, what is it?”

“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.” Chris rattles off in a voice that indicates the response has long since become rote. “It means that we hunt those who hunt us.” 

“We hunt those who hunt us.” Stiles says, tilting his head to the side as if he was trying to understand the taste of those words. “Would you say that’s a morally righteous stance Christopher?” Chris blinked at him for a moment.

“I know not all of my family has followed the code.” Chris says, and he seems to be choosing his words carefully, caution on his face.

“That wasn’t the question. Do your morals permit your code? Is it right to hunt those who hunt you?” Stiles asked, looking at the hunter without any visible emotion.

“Yes, we have to protect people.” Chris said, and he sounded tired resigned. Stiles smiled at that, and a chill ran up Chris’ spine.

“I’m so glad we can agree,” Stiles turned towards the door, and lifted his hand, gun cocked. The door burst open, and in the blink of an eye Stiles pulls the trigger. The shot lands perfectly between her eyes' and the form of Kate Argent slumps to the ground.

Chris didn’t cry out, barely looked at the still form of his sister. Instead he kept wary eyes on Stiles as he backed away.

“To my knowledge you have never killed an innocent.” Stiles says, without looking at him. “I’m sorry for what I’m going to do to your family.”

“I can’t let you just kill them.” Chris protests, but he doesn’t sound like he truly believes it. Stiles turns to him, one eyebrow raised.

“Why not? You’ve been perfectly content to sit by as they murdered innocent people.” Stiles points out. “I’m sparing you, and Allison, although she has hunted innocents.”

“It won’t happen again.” Chris says, and Stiles doesn’t really believe him, but Allison will choose her own fate in time, until then he has a hell of a mess to clean up.

“Be sure that she doesn’t.” Stiles says, turning away from Chris. “I follow your code now hunter, know that my kills are as justified as your own. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

“I don’t like this.” Chris says, and Stiles turns back from the doorway, a sharp smile on his face.

“Now you know how the wolves feel.”


	2. Police Your Own

The message is simple, received nearly simultaneously by the head of every Hunter family in the world.

 _Police your own, or I will_. It read. _You have two weeks_. There was no signature, only the words, _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent_ , written across the back of the card. It seemed as if Chris’ phone couldn’t stop ringing.

“What does it mean?”

“Who is it?”

“How do we stop it?”

Everyone had questions, and Chris found himself with very few answers. He didn’t know much about Stiles Stilinski, or what he could do. He only knew that the boy seemed older than he was, and held a gun like it was an extension of his arm.

Unbeknownst to the Hunters a similar letter appeared to Alpha werewolves all over the world.

 _If a hunter kills an innocent, burn this card and they will be dealt with accordingly_. The card promised _. I hunt those who hunt you_ , was written on the back. Most alpha’s scoffed at the card, but something stopped them from throwing it away.

The first card burned two days later, and the world warped as Stiles stepped out of the campfire.

“Who are you?” The teenager asked, rubbing at her face to hide her tears. He sat down next to her, his guard down.

“I’m Stiles. Where’s your alpha?” He asked, and a sob caught in her chest as she flashed red eye’s at him. “What happened?”

“They took my mom, two day’s ago. Carved her heart out, and sent it to us in a box.” She cries, and Stiles knows better than to reach out and touch her. So he sit’s with her as she mourns.

“What can I do for you?” He asks, when she’s quiet.

“I want her back.” She says, but they both know that can’t be done. He waits. “I want them to pay.”

“Do you have any names?” He asks, and she grins at him, all sharp teeth.

“Joe Snart, Samson Creed, and Anton Larson.” She says, and then the fight leave’s her eyes. “I can’t take on the Larson family, my pack would suffer.

“I can.” He says, and when she looks up, he’s gone. He doesn’t hear the thank you she whispers into the wind, but somehow, she thinks he knows.

The Larson family receives a new note. _Anton has killed an innocent, his life is forfeit. Police your own, or I will do it for you. Aiding him in his kill were Joe Snart, and Samson Creed. All three are dead, you have until tomorrow afternoon to handle this yourselves._ Jamie Larson snorts derisively at the note, crumbling it up. The words, _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent._ Glow on the back.

“Find my idiot son, and put him on lock down. Something big is coming, and we’re going to kill it.” She announces, and miles away Stiles smiles, it’s much more fun to do things the hard way.

Anton is locked into a basement, surrounded by hunters, with none other than Joe and Samson guarding the door. The compound goes on high alert, and Stiles walks up to the electric fence, and steps into the Ley line that runs under the building, the magic of it wraps around him, and he steps out directly in front of Joe.

“You killed an innocent.” He says simply, and the air leaves Joe’s lungs. “Your life is forfeit.” He turns to Samson, ignoring the gun pointed at his chest. “You killed an innocent.” Samson attempts to fire the gun, but the gunpowder can’t spark, and suddenly his eye’s go wide as he desperately tries to breathe. “Your life is forfeit.” They both slump to the ground, and Stiles turns away, stepping through the door, and grabbing Anton by the collar.

“Who are you?” Anton asks, attempting to throw a punch at this stranger.

“Let’s go see mommy.” He says, and Anton finds that he can’t move as the ground comes up to swallow him, when he blinks, he’s in his mom’s office.

“Mom, save me.” He pleads, but she doesn’t take her eyes of the threat.

“What are you?” She asks him, and he smiles in a way that looks almost wolfish.

“I’m working on becoming your boogey man.” Stiles says simply. “The same way you are the boogey man to so many children in this world.”

“I’m a hunter.” She says, “We hunt monsters.” Stiles smiles then.

“You hunt monsters?” He asks, and she nods her head. “So if I told you that someone had kidnapped a mother of two, who had never harmed anyone, and carved her heart out, before delivering it to her daughter with a threat to kill their entire family, would you say they were a monster?” The woman in front of him cut’s her eyes towards her son.

“No.” She said, and Stiles frowned.

“Well in that case, I’m afraid you’re the monster, and I’m in the business of putting down monsters.” He explained. Her eyes went wide, but by then it was too late, and a strange force wrapped around her head, and snapped her neck. Anton was next.

Stiles disappeared and a message burned its way into the wall.

_These two monsters believed it just to kill innocents, and torment children with the knowledge of their parent’s murders. For this their life is forfeit._


	3. Someone Different

By the time two weeks had passed the hunter community was looking liked a kicked beehive, buzzing around like crazy and spitting mad. Which meant more cards being burned, some situations ended similarly to the Larson’s and others, the hunters managed to police their own well enough to satisfy Stiles.

It was just after the two weeks when a tug seemed to wrap around him, pulling him towards California. The McCall alpha had burnt his card.

“Hello.” Stiles said, stepping out of the ley lines just behind Scott, a dark mist cloaking him from view. Scott jumped.

“Hi, we’ve heard you help people, we could use some help.” Scott says, which really isn’t saying much. The other wolves are staring at him distrustfully.

“I help with hunter problems. Any hunters in the area?” He says, tilting his head towards Allison as he says it. Scott quickly steps in front of her.

“Yes.” He says. “There’s some people here, they’re mad about you actually.” Looks like stealing the Argent code may have had some repercussions. “I want them to leave my land.” Scott says, and Stiles laugh is dark.

“Why? So, they can go kill innocents somewhere else?” He asks. “That’s not what I do Alpha McCall, my problems don’t come back.” The image of his dad, at the end of Gerard’s sword pierces his mind. Scott opens his mouth to speak, but Stiles is done here. “It was nice seeing you Derek, take care of yourself.” He allows his scent to escape his magic’s grasp for just a moment, and then he’s gone.

“What are you doing here Stiles?” Christopher asks, looking more tired than anything else. A drink in his hand. “Here to kill more of my family?”

“I am sorry for your loss, but your family were monsters, and they killed innocents at a higher rate than any feral werewolf. They got what was coming to them, and you know it.” Stiles says, jumping up to sit on Chris’ counter. “I’ve heard there are some hunters in town.”

“Yup. Thanks for that.” Chris says, raising his glass towards Stiles.

“Where are they?” Stiles asks, and there’s a sharpness to his smile. Chris looks up from where he’s been staring into the wood grain of his kitchen table.

“Why would I tell you?” He asks, and that’s such an easy question to answer.

“Because you know these men won’t hesitate to kill your daughter if they think it will lead them to me.” He’s right, and they both know it. Still silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment.

“The old mill.” He says, tilting his head back as he chugs the last of his drink. Stiles doesn’t say thank you, he knows Chris doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.” He promises instead. He doesn’t expect a response, doesn’t wait for one. Instead leaving Chris alone with his drink.

“Heard you guys were looking for me.” Stiles says, and in an instant three guns are fired, and every person in the room freezes, three bullets falling listlessly to the ground. “Now, I want to know who’s in charge here. You.” He points to a young-looking hunter, and allows the boy to speak.

“Matriarch Patricia.” He says, and his eye’s flick towards a woman with the beginning of gray in her hair. Stiles glances at her considering.

“Why are you here?” Stiles asks, and the boy looks up at him, fire in his eyes.

“To kill a monster.” He answers, a lot of confidence, and little to do with it.

“What makes a monster a monster?” Stiles asks him, and the boy opens his mouth.

“They aren’t human.” He says, completely confident. Stiles laughs, and conjures up the illusion of a sparrow.

“So, you kill every bird you see?” He asks, and the image morphs as he speaks. “Dog, cat, horse, cow? None of those are human.” The boy shakes his head.

“No, no, monsters are predators.” He explains, as if Stiles is a very stupid child. The image morphs back into a cat.

“So is a cat.” He explains. The boy shakes his head again clearly frustrated.

“Monsters kill people.” He says, and Stiles grins turns dark as he points to the woman beside the boy.

“Elizabeth Frank, current kill count 13 threats, 5 innocents. Little Bobby Martin being the youngest at just three years old. His parents were both werewolves, but he hadn’t even had his first shift yet. None of them had ever hurt anyone, she killed all three while they slept in their beds.” Stiles says, creating an image of each of her victims as he spoke. “There’s your monster kid.”

“They were wolves.” Elizabeth defends, the moment her mouth is free. “All wolves are monsters.” Stiles silences her with a hand.

“Lady you killed a three-year-old, and you don’t even regret it. His mom was a nurse, his dad an accountant. That’s not a monster it’s a person.” He says. “You on the other hand.” He’s about to kill her, but before he can a gun goes off.

“You’re right.” The kid is shaking, and suddenly Stiles feels almost bad against him. “She was a monster.”

“Hunters are necessary.” Stiles admits, looking over the group. “Feral wolves, harpies, there are plenty of things that kill unrepentantly. Sometimes people do that too though, those are the people I’m after.”

“My name is Jeremy Ranger, and I think you might be right. As heir apparent for the Ranger family hunting line I need to know, who else here has killed innocents?” He’s still shaking, but he looks confident. “We should police our own, like you told us to.” In the end there are few hunters left standing, and Stiles doubts a few of them will survive another encounter with him, too much violence in their eyes. 

“If more hunters were like you Jeremy, I wouldn’t be needed. I hope that one day I won’t be.” He says, and then he’s gone.


End file.
